


Beetlejuice Squared

by Hoodoo



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Anger, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Nipple Piercings, Protectiveness, Shameless Smut, Smoking, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Titty fuck, Two Beetlejuices, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: You've called one Beetlejuice to spend the evening with, then accidently-on-purpose called a second.
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/You
Comments: 73
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone likes A. Brightman's Beetlejuice; I've kind of fallen for W. Blum's Beetlejuice. They're both here, in this story.

“Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice!”

You’d called, he arrived. He told you it always gave him a thrill, hearing his name from your mouth, and you socked him in the shoulder for being a sap and maybe a liar, because you were pretty sure he said that to anyone who’d called him up. Still, it was sweet, so you softened it with a kiss on the same spot you’d used your knuckles on and took him to the couch.

The two of you had made out a bit and you lost most of your clothing and he’d dumped his suit jacket and tie, but then you got a text that you couldn’t ignore, and you had to make a phone call. Beetlejuice grumbled and you waved him off, tossing him the TV remote as you left the room to finish talking to your boss about whatever dire emergency couldn’t wait until the weekend was over.

By the time you got back, Beetlejuice had his feet up and was smoking. He’d neglected to rebutton his shirt. As you didn’t keep cigarettes in the house and a distinctively different aroma than tobacco smoke filled the air, you smiled. You sank back down onto the couch and leaned into him.

Leisurely, he passed you the joint. It wasn’t earthly weed; he must have spirited it from the Netherworld. You knew from experience it was potent, and didn’t take too deep a pull on it. 

With some documentary about flat-earthers on the TV, you and he passed the joint back and forth. It never got shorter or used up. It made you giggly and easily distracted. It also made you warm; even though you were pressed against his tepid body in only a thin shirt and panties, you didn’t feel the chill. The weed mellowed him too, and although his free hand stroked your upper thigh, he didn’t capitalize on it at the moment. In the back of your fuzzy mind you remembered Netherworld weed had some pretty intense aphrodisiac properties, which meant Beetlejuice was probably looking for some backdoor action and wanted to make sure you were properly relaxed and would be primed for his “sudden” suggestion of anal later. 

You half watched the documentary, half scrolled through your phone. You found articles on flat-earthers, which led to articles on space, which led to articles on a red supergiant star that could go supernova any time in the next 100,000 years or so. That caught your eye.

“Look!” you told him, holding your phone up in his face. “It’s your name, I think.”

Beetlejuice squinted at the too close screen you shoved at him. 

“Nah,” he replied. “It doesn’t have a ‘j’ in it.”

“No, I think it is!” you insisted. “Let me see . . .”

Quickly you tapped “Betelgeuse pronunciation” into the google search on your phone. There were some linguistics articles that would have been hard to read even if you weren’t stoned; then you found some youtube videos.

You clicked on the first, and a woman’s voice came through the speakers.

“Alpha Orionis has a more common name,” the narration began. “Derived from the Arabic Yad al-Jauzā', the eleventh brightest star in the night sky is Bhe-tle-juz.” 

You listened to it again, then repeated it in the same clear monotone the woman had, wrapping your tongue around the slightly different pronunciation.

_“Bhe-tle-juz.”_

You flicked a 10 second rewind and listened to the voice again. 

“Hey babe, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Beetlejuice protested mildly. “I don’t know if it’ll, you know, send me back--”

You ignored him. 

_“Bhe-tle-juz,”_ you said again. You liked it; it started with a softer mouthfeel than a hard B. 

“--and we haven’t even gotten it on yet, not really!” Beetlejuice continued. A slight note of panic in his voice fought its way through the haze of dope. “Come on, babes, knock it off--”

_“Bhe-tle-juz,”_ you said one last time, with a giggle. 

A thin whistling filled the air. It did not hurt your ears, but it didn’t sound right, either. You grimaced and looked up at Beetlejuice to tell him to stop it, but a burst of light erupted in front of you then faded just as quickly as it appeared. You blinked rapidly to restore your burnt out vision, and standing in front of you, between the couch you and Beetlejuice were lounging on and the TV, was Beetlejuice.

_tbc . . ._


	2. Chapter 2

“What _the fuck?!”_ the Beetlejuice you were leaning against exclaimed, sitting up abruptly, half-dislodging you from his side.

You fumbled the joint so you didn’t drop it as you were jostled. “Hey! Watch it, Beej!”

The new Beetlejuice threw his gaze around the room with narrowed eyes and dramatically waved his hand in front of his face. 

“Jesus christ,” he coughed. “What’s with all the weed?”

His eyes landed on you. “Oh, _hello.”_

“Hi!” you replied. 

Whatever was happening, Beetlejuice’s dope smoothed out all the edges. You pushed yourself off the specter you were leaning on, shoved the still lit joint back into his hand, ignored his protest and his _other_ hand that tried to keep a grip on your shirt, and got off the couch. You took a step towards the newcomer. “Who’re you?”

“I’m the ghost with the most, babydoll,” he replied. It was such a cliché you rolled your eyes, but you also couldn’t help but smile. 

This was Beetlejuice, but not _quite_ Beetlejuice. Although dressed in the striped suit you’d come to expect and with the same swept up rat’s nest of hair and scruff on his face, he was taller--much taller!--than the Beetlejuice you’d spent the evening with so far. Made bold by the smoke you had partaken in, you looked him over thoroughly, taking his hand (and finding his nails were solid black); straining on unsteady tip-toes to peer into his face (discovering his eyes were darker amber than the other Beetlejuice’s and his teeth were slightly less sharp). 

He seemed as curious about you as you did him, and permitted the inspection with an air of amusement. You kept a hand on him, dragging your fingers lightly over him as you walked in a circle to look at his back. He watched you the entire time with a slight smile on his face, his head rotating completely around to keep track of you.

When you were where you started in front of him again, you left your hand on his chest and said, “Beej--”

“What?” they both answered together. 

The new arrival didn’t have the same voice. It was less gravely. Less rough. You liked it. You stared up into his eyes and didn’t turn back to the Beetlejuice on the couch as you continued.

“--is this one of your clones?”

The reaction to the question was immediate, from both of them. Once again they spoke at the same time, over one another. 

“The fuck, babe?” the Beetlejuice on the couch spit. “How could you even think that guy was my clones--”

“A _clone?”_ the Beetlejuice in front of you said, offended. “You’ve got your hand on me, do I feel like a fucking clone--”

They both finished at the same time, “--that’s fucking ridiculous!”

The combination of a bottom-of-the-lungs rasp and a smooth voice merging together gave you a shiver. 

“No,” you ceded, still looking up at the specter you were next to, “I guess you’re not a clone.”

The new Beetlejuice gave you a wider smile and reached forward to take your waist. His voice dropped a little, like he was talking only loud enough for you to hear. “That’s right, babydoll. Thanks for the invite. So tell me, what’s your pleasure?”

There was a literal growl from Beetlejuice on the couch, and in the next instant, you were yanked away from the other, wrapped up in a tight, protective hug from behind. From over your shoulder, Beetlejuice hissed, 

“Back off, asshole!”

The new Beetlejuice held his hands up a moment. “Hey, dick. _She_ called me. Breathers don’t do that unless they want something, and from the state of things here, I think I can guess what that might be.”

Beetlejuice held you against his bare chest tightly and another warning growl slipped past your ear.

Taller Beetlejuice looked over the two of you. “Babydoll, you called my name three times and here I am. For you. What can I do for _you?_ Probably more than _he_ can . . .”

“Hey--” you objected in Beetlejuice’s defense, and the other snorted a laugh. 

“He’s gotta use the Netherworld’s primo weed to get you going? That doesn’t seem like a demon who can make things happen without a little outside assistance.”

You felt a little surge of protection for the Beetlejuice you knew best. “The weed was later, _after_ we’d made out. I don’t need it to get hot and bothered, it’s just a _bonus._ ”

The Beetlejuice holding you chuckled. He spun you, unprotesting, on your heel, to face him.

“That’s sweet, babe,” he told you, and lifted the joint held between his first two fingers to his mouth again. 

He took a drag and held it in, then tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows at you. Reading his intention, you tilted your head too. With your hands flat on his chest, you stretched towards him until your parted lips were only millimeters away. Beetlejuice breathed a column of smoke directly into your mouth.

You got most of it too, before you smiled and tendrils of the thick smoke escaped. You held it in for a long moment, practically feeling the smoke permeate through your lungs, letting it settle heavily throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips and toes. Finally you let the remainder of it out, smiling languidly at Beetlejuice. Shotgun smoking with him always made you feel warm and mellow. Maybe the smoke picked up something in his lungs that transferred to you? You didn’t know, but it made you feel good. 

Your smile was slow and there was a tingle in your extremities and in your groin. You didn’t step away, and pressed a sloppy kiss to his lower lip. Beetlejuice caught you around the waist with one arm as he raised the joint and brought it to his mouth again. You caught him staring directly at the other specter with a smug air and open challenge on his face.

Taller Beetlejuice scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Still doesn’t change the fact she called me.” 

“She called me first, asshole!” Beetlejuice said with his arm still around you.

“And then she obviously decided to call someone better!”

The affects of the weed kept you slowed down for a moment, so you didn’t object when Beetlejuice released you and took a step between you and the second Beetlejuice you’d managed to summon into your living room. Still, you said, 

“Hey. Beej? Beejes? Beeji? Bees?” Trying to determine the plural of the word struck you as funny, and you cut yourself off with giggling. 

“It was a fucking mistake. _You’re_ a fucking second string, honorary mention, cheap knock-off of me--”

“Someone’s got their panties in a twist. Feeling threatened ‘cause you know she’d choose me over you? Chicks like tall guys,” the newer arrival stated dismissively before he addressed you again. “Come on, babydoll, you wanna have some fun with someone who doesn’t need chemical enhancement to show you a good time?”

Beetlejuice responded to that with a snarl, while the other turned back on him with a comment on how he probably couldn’t even get it _up_ at this point.

It slowly dawned in your fuzzy brain that there were two Beetlejuices slowly circling each other like two alpha predators looking for an opportunity to attack. Both of them had red shot through their hair, and there was a faint crackling in the air, like right before a lightening strike. 

That cleared your head pretty quickly. The last thing you needed was your house torn apart in some spectral, demonic, dick-measuring contest. Especially when all you’d really wanted to do tonight was get laid.

“Hey,” you said.

They ignored you, focused so tightly on each other.

You cleared your throat and tried again, more loudly. “Hey! Beetlejuice! Bhetlejuz!”

Their full names caught their attention. They both turned to you.

“I called you both here,” you exclaimed boldly, “so that means _I_ get to choose what _I_ want!”

Both Beetlejuices turned to you with dangerously dark expressions, staring at you from beneath their brows, like they both suddenly remembered you were in the room, standing before them scantily clad and looking like prey. 

You pushed on. “So I choose _both_ of you. Either you’re in, or you’re out. I’m happy to send either of you away if you can’t play nicely.”

It was a gamble; calling Beetlejuice up gave him power and you truly didn’t have much control over him. Still, you sweetened the deal by casually drawing a hand down your own side and subtly cupping your own breast before letting your hand fall to the hem of your shirt. Coyly, you lifted it a few inches as you cocked a hip.

They both looked much less dangerous with their jaws loosened.

_tbc . . ._


	3. Chapter 3

In a flash, the original Beetlejuice was at your side again. 

“Jesus, baby,” he said with the joint caught between his teeth, “you’re so fucking sexy.”

He grabbed you low on the hips and pressed his groin into yours.

“You can cool it a little?” you questioned suspiciously.

He ducked his head to get rid of the joint. “Yeah, I suppose. A little,” he agreed as he cast a glance over at his taller counterpart. 

You kissed him soundly on the mouth, and he melted a little. 

Then you stepped away and pulled the other Beetlejuice into a hug. It was different, having to look up so much at him. 

“And you can stop antagonizing?” 

He narrowed his eyes a bit. You returned the look and pinched his side. He broke into a grin. 

“I can, babydoll. Do I get a kiss too?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, and stretched upward while pulling him down to reward his promise as well. 

You nudged your tongue between his lips, and were pleasantly surprised to find that his mouth tasted just like the Beetlejuice you knew best. Fresh dirt. You’d become conditioned to liking that taste, and it turned you on. You stepped up against him, pressing yourself along the long line of his body.

You felt him grin around the kiss, and his tongue licked against yours. You sighed into his mouth, but before it went further Beetlejuice moved up against your back. 

Caught between the two of them, their cold bodies wicked away your heat. Beetlejuice dragged his tongue up the side of your neck, to your ear, making you giggle and wrap one arm around his head to keep him close. You twisted your head to kiss him too, but it was an awkward position. It didn’t stop you from trying, though, and shifted a little for better access. 

That moved you away from the taller Beetlejuice, and that didn’t sit well with him; he didn’t easily relinquish his hold on you. Four hands grabbed at you, which was both nice and rough. You stayed sandwiched between them instead of wiggling out of both their grips.

“Wanna go to the bedroom, baby?” your Beetlejuice asked, nodding towards the hallway that led there. 

You knew it was a subtle dig towards the newcomer that he knew the layout of your place. Beetlejuice knew it too; you felt him tense up a little. You didn’t want that superiority bleeding over into whatever this was. 

“No. I’d rather stay here,” you contradicted. To the sounds of protest, you wiggled out of both their grips to turn to Beej. “As a matter of fact . . . why don’t you have a seat for a second?”

The startled expression on his face turned ugly quickly as the other Beetlejuice snickered. You gave the taller one a dead-eyed look that promised you would not tolerate it, and he shut up. You turned completely to Beej and slipped your hands around his waist. You dipped your head to catch his gaze. 

In a soft voice only for him, you told him, “Trust me on this, Beej. I’m gonna make it so good for you--”

You cut yourself off by kissing him. Then, 

“--I can’t wait for you to fuck me, I want your cock inside me--”

You kissed him again. Then, 

“--I want you to fuck me, Beej, but I want to, I want to--”

He broke off the kiss this time, but talked into your mouth, like you had him.

“I’m going to fuck you? Not him? You called me first, baby--”

You nodded. “But I want to . . .” You let your voice fade instead of finishing your sentence, egging him to ask,

“You want to what, baby?”

“I want to suck him off. Okay? I want you to watch. I want you to think about my mouth on you. I want you to think about how much I like blowing you, how much you like shooting your load in my mouth, but then you get to fuck me. You get a show and pussy, how does that sound?” you suggested breathily, and licked across his lips without dipping your tongue into his mouth. 

You also slipped a hand to his crotch, and gave him a squeeze. 

“You know you’d like it. I can tell already.”

He groaned, and the tiniest of nods was your answer. With a grin, you pushed him back onto the couch. When the backs of his knees hit it, he sat down. You bent at the waist with him, keeping your mouth against his.

In that position, the other Beetlejuice came up behind you and grabbed your hips, rocking his pelvis into you. You squeaked in surprise and the Beetlejuice below you flicked his eyes up to the other, but there was much less animosity in his gaze now. 

The taller Beetlejuice repeated the motion, just to hear you squeak again, then had you stand again so your back was pressed against his chest. He leaned over enough to put his mouth near your ear, similar to what Beej had done earlier. 

“I heard what you said, babydoll. _He_ gets to fuck you, but I don’t? How fair is that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” you replied, slipping your hand around his neck and carding your fingers through his hair. “You haven’t felt what I can do with my mouth.”

He chuckled, a soft explosive sound against your neck, and nipped you.

“Then show me. But first, lose the shirt. I’d like to see your tits.”

Without waiting for your permission, his black-nailed fingers slid under the hem of your shirt, and rucked it up. Your back arched a little at the coldness of his touch, and that was agreement enough. 

With your chest on display to Beej on the couch, you tipped your head back as Beetlejuice behind your cupped your tits, pinching your nipples to hard peaks. He pulled them too, until the stimulation bordered painful, then you twisted out of his arms. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he dropped it in a heap on the floor while you worked his tie loose and undid the buttons on his shirt. 

Baring his chest as he shimmied his shoulder out from under his suspenders and his arms from the sleeves, you discovered another difference between the two Beetlejuices: this one had pierced nipples. A simple barbell with circular shield in silver decorated him. On closer examination, you discovered they were snakes holding their own tails. 

You glanced up at him. “I like that,” you told him sincerely, and closed your mouth over one.

He arched his back, just as you had, as you took the metal between your teeth and carefully tugged it. His breath caught in his throat and a hand went to the back of your neck. You didn’t apply too much pressure; when his fingers spasmed, you released him. 

His pupils were blown and he licked his lower lip.

“Any other surprises?” you asked saucily, running a hand down his fly and between his legs. 

“Just a huge dick waiting to be sucked, babydoll,” he replied. 

“You are a huge dick waiting to be sucked,” Beej muttered behind you, only half-under his breath. 

You shot a look back at him. Instead of snapping at him, you told him,“Make sure to keep that joint lit for me, Beej.” More flies with honey, and all that. Plus if he was smoking again, it’d mellow him out a little.

“Whatever you want, baby,” you heard him reply, before your turned your attention back to the Beetlejuice in front of you.

“You want to sit down?” you asked him.

He replied with a shrug and you took him to the couch too. Before you spun him so he could sit, you stripped him of his trousers. Making sure to leave space between the two of them, you sat between them, curling your legs under you and leaning into the Beetlejuice. You felt Beej’s palm on your ass; he never could keep his hands to himself if he had the opportunity to touch skin. You wriggled a little to let him know you enjoyed it, then turned your attention back to Beetlejuice. 

_tbc . . ._


	4. Chapter 4

Perpendicular to him, you kissed him, finding his tongue once again, until you ran out of breath. He continually kneaded your tits, his larger hands cupping them, until you made your way down his neck and chest, leaving faint purplish marks on his pale skin when you sucked with a little more force. He didn’t seem to mind, however, and when you latched onto his nipple again, he groaned. 

Holding a sizeable hunk of skin lightly between your teeth, you flicked the metal piercing with your tongue. Beetlejuice’s free hand went to the back of your head and held you here, so you repeated the motion again, and again, each time with a little extra pressure. When it was too much, he yanked your mouth off him.

“Jesus, babydoll,” he panted as you looked up at him. His temples were shot through with deep pink. You knew your lips were shiny and you licked them while you smiled. Beetlejuice’s gaze darted from yours for a moment, to Beej. “You oughtta think about getting pierced, man. Her mouth is wicked.”

“I know,” came the gravelly reply from over your shoulder, and he slapped your ass, making you gasp in a good, surprised way. “Nah, I’m good.”

A faint smell of weed wafted to you. He’d done as you’d requested, and was smoking again. 

You grinned. Beetlejuice seemed to think it was for him, because he gave you a squeeze that included your own nipple. You played with his for another moment, making him hiss, then continued downward along his body, continuing to leave the same trail of bite-y little kisses on his belly. You followed the trail of hair from his navel to its reward: his cock. 

You actually took it in hand to move it so you could lick a stripe along the top. His hand, which hadn’t left the back of your neck, tightened, and without looking back up at him, you opened your mouth and took him in whole. 

Beetlejuice bucked a little at the unexpected swallowing, and you heard Beej chuckle behind you at his reaction. 

“She told you,” he said, and Beetlejuice replied with a sound that was half acknowledgement, half moan. 

You were used to the temperature of a specter’s cock, and knew it would warm up rapidly. This Beetlejuice tasted the same, again, but was slightly lengthier than what you were accustomed to. Still, you were proud of being able to override your gag reflex, especially if you were in control, and stayed still, with your face and chin pressed into his pubic hair. You didn’t release him for a few seconds.

When you did, you took a huge breath. You licked the head of his cock a moment, then swallowed him again.

Beetlejuice’s legs tensed under you, keeping him rigidly up against you. You smiled a little as you moved up and down on his cock. You didn’t deepthroat him each time; you paused for a second and licked your hand to use it in conjunction with your mouth, holding him steady at the base of his cock while your worked the head, pulling downward with it while you moved your mouth upward, twisting it occasionally to add variety.

It was easy, once you’d settled into a slight rhythm, to drift away a little bit and pay attention to something besides the cock you were handling. 

Beetlejuice remained tense under you. He groaned when you took him deeply. He gasped when you moved upward, and made a little keening noise if you took your mouth off him completely for a tease or a break. Although he didn’t talk to you while you were blowing him, like the Beetlejuice you knew best, the sounds he made were still smoother than the rasp your ear was used to. 

Smoke from the joint you’d asked Beej to keep lit for you filled the air with its aroma again. You could imagine him behind you, watching everything with half-closed eyes, his lips pursed around the joint, unselfconsciously rubbing himself through the crotch of his pants. Or maybe he’d popped his button and opened his fly, so he could stroke himself more easily? In your mind’s eye you could see both scenarios. Both made you hot.

What you weren’t expecting, lost in the rhythm, was Beej’s hand to slap your ass again, then slip his fingers over the panties covering your pussy.

It made you jump a little. Beej laughed and Beetlejuice chuckled too, his belly moving enough that it pressed against your ear. Beej’s fingers didn’t stop, once he had your attention. He pulled at your hips till you lifted them so he could pull your panties off you, then shifted you so you were flat on your stomach between the two of them, your knees bent upward. 

He slipped his hand between your thighs again and brushed the delicate skin of your pussy. You loosened your legs and angled your pelvis to give him better access. His fingers disappeared for a moment, then returned wet; he’d licked them. As they slid through your folds and found your clit, you moaned.

“I thought you were sucking him off, baby,” Beej reminded you. “Can’t multitask? That’s being a bad hostess to your guests.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder, to which you earned a smirk and a little more pressure on your clit. You moaned again, but went back to the task in hand, raising yourself up on your elbows to take Beetlejuice into your mouth again. 

Now it was more difficult to get back into a cadence. Beej purposefully seemed to try and both match your pattern but throw you off of it at the same time. When you went softer on Beetlejuice, he focused on your clit. When you took him all the way back to your throat, he slipped his fingers inside you. Everything seemed designed to make you gasp and have to pull off the cock you were supposed to be focusing on. It was annoying and arousing at the same time. 

Finally, you had to stop. Beetlejuice’s groin was sloppy wet from spit. Despite your distractions, his pubic hair was faintly pink. He groaned as your breath hit him in sharp pants; Beej decided to finger fuck you in earnest the last several moments. You managed to twist to look up at him. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you stuttered through a moan, with Beej’s fingers deep inside you. “I, I--I _can’t--”_

Beetlejuice grinned down at you. “You did fine, babydoll. Seeing you fall apart because of what he’s doing--” He cocked his head towards Beej, but didn’t look at him. “--is fucking hot.”

You nodded, in both agreement and because you were heading closer to an orgasm.

“You gonna come, babydoll?” Beetlejuice asked, taking your jaw so you continued to look at him and not drop your head. “There’s a pretty blush on your cheeks and you’re moaning so hard . . . fuck. You gonna come on his hand? Are his fingers so deep in your pussy you can’t stand it?”

He slipped his thumb into your open mouth, and pressed it onto your tongue.

The combination of Beej’s hand at your pussy and Beetlejuice’s direct eye contact and dirty talk pushed you over the edge. You came with a wavering cry, your pussy clenching on the fingers inside you. Towards the end you closed your lips on Beetlejuice’s thumb too.

Beetlejuice stroked the side of your face and Beej held still for a moment as you shuddered. You groaned as Beej slipped his fingers out of you, and sucked Beetlejuice’s thumb before he pulled it from your mouth with a soft ‘pop!’

You got a second’s reprieve to catch your breath, then Beej smacked your ass again. 

“You promised I’d fuck you, babes,” he announced, and swung your legs around so your knees fell off the side of the couch. You felt loose. He’d made the joint disappear, so you weren’t particularly concerned with anything catching fire.

“Yeah,” you agreed. You might have agreed to anything at that point.

“Give her a second!” Beetlejuice snapped.

As mellow as Beej may have been from the weed, he bristled. “Shut your mouth! You’ve been laying back getting your dick sucked, and she’s paid no attention to me--”

The pink in Beetlejuice’s hair was becoming shot through with red, and once again you found yourself having to take control of a situation that had the real possibility of escalating. On your knees on the floor wasn’t the optimal position to try to rein them in, but you held your hands up to them anyway.

You repeated their names to grab their attention again. “Beetlejuice! Bhetlejuz!” 

Like before, they stopped their bickering. You fixed your gaze on the taller Beetlejuice. 

“It’s fine. Beej and I have known each other for a while, and I didn’t take offense at what he said or anything. Okay?”

He frowned.

“Thank you for your concern,” you continued. “I’m sure the people who call you appreciate that you’re looking out for them.”

“I don’t get called to perform as much as he does,” he mumbled, dropping his eyes but nodding upwards, towards the Beetlejuice behind you.

That pulled you up a little short. Beej’s chortle didn’t help, and you elbowed him in the knee. 

“Well, you’re here now, and I’m not done with you!” you told him sincerely. As he looked back up at you, you gave him a smile before twisting to look up at the other Beetlejuice at the end of the couch. “Or you either, Beej! Come here!”

He complied, losing his pants along the way. On his hands and knees beside you on the floor probably wasn’t his first choice of position, being inferior to the Beetlejuice on the couch, but you figured what you had in mind would make up for it. You kissed him solidly on the mouth, dipping your tongue between his teeth before telling him, 

“Your fingers were so good, Beej! But they weren’t enough, I need your cock inside me--”

His ego stroked--which he liked as much as stroking his dick--he smirked and you stole it from him with another kiss.

“Be behind me, Beej?” you suggested. “And a little smack every now and then? Please?”

He complied and gave you a light smack, to tease, then moved into position behind you. As he settled between your legs, you turned your attention back to the Beetlejuice still on the couch. 

“I’m not going to neglect you,” you promised, “I still want to suck your cock.”

“Music to my ears, babydoll,” he replied, so you went between his knees, looking up him. 

_tbc . . ._


	5. Chapter 5

He grinned, and you returned to what you’d done earlier, licking his cock and taking him in your mouth. This time he slipped his hand to the back of your neck as you bobbed up and down on him. Once again, you felt his legs start to tense, much more quickly this time. It wouldn’t take long, you thought, to get him to come--

\--until Beej pushed up against you. This position was a favorite, and it didn’t take much for him to find exactly where he needed to be. Your pussy was still wet and he’d primed you with his fingers, but his fingers weren’t as thick as his cock, so slipping his cock into you took a moment. He didn’t give you time to adjust, which made you pull off Beetlejuice and groan, dropping your head as nerve-endings lit up again. 

“That beautiful sound,” the smoother voice of the Beetlejuice in front of you said. There was a hint of delight in his voice, even though he wasn’t the one who’d coaxed it from you.

You looked up at him again, panting, and managed a smile even as Beej set a blistering pace. His cock opened you up and the friction was divine, but you said you wouldn’t neglect Beetlejuice and by god you’d try to focus. You took him in hand and closed your mouth over him again. He jerked out of synch with what was happening at your groin, and you did your best. 

Once again Beej seemed determined to undermine your efforts, however. Even if not being able to suck the cock in front of you like you promised made you feel guilty, Beej fucked you just how you liked it: hard, snappy, and deep. He gave you a random slap on your ass every once in a while, as you’d requested, and you loved it. You moaned wantonly and one hand slipped down to your clit for extra stimulation. 

Beej’s hips slowed for a moment when your hand went to your pussy. That gave you enough fortitude to take Beetlejuice back into your mouth; this time instead of actively blowing him you just stayed still, and moaned with your mouth full as your pussy was pounded again. You let the movements Beej made telegraph through you, and that was a facsimile of a blow job, at least. Beetlejuice’s fingers tightened in your hair, and you heard him catch his breath above you. He bucked a little with your moaning too; the vibrations must have also stimulated him.

Still, you weren’t a porn star and it was hard to keep a dick in your mouth while you were being fucked hard. You pulled away again, just for air. Pleasure was peaking in you again; you put harder pressure on your clit and rocked back against Beej as he thrust into you. 

He smacked you again, and you could hear a change in pitch in his own grunts. He was getting close too, you knew him well enough that you could tell when he was about to come--

With a deep groan that sounded like it came from the bottom of his lungs and an extra hard push into you, he came. Just that little bit more force and your fingers still on your clit toppled you over the edge again as well. 

Euphoria radiated through your body, and you couldn’t control the tremors it gave you. You probably looked shameless and used between Beetlejuice’s thighs, with your mouth open, a thin sheen of sweat coating you, and your cheeks flushed. Above you, he chuckled and cupped the side of your face. 

Behind you, Beej shuddered too, through the last of his orgasm. After another moment, he pulled out. You both groaned at the loss, and you were left feeling a little empty, with wet dripping down the inside of your upper thighs.

He gave your ass one last loving smack. “Fuck you’re the best, babe.”

You tossed a smile back at him. “You ain’t so bad yourself.”

Beej gave you a lopsided grin, then he pushed himself up and collapsed back onto the other end of the couch again. Somewhere between you and the couch his pants reappeared.

You worked to catch your breath, because there was still someone who needed to get off! 

“Give me a second, Beej,” you panted.

Beetlejuice’s eyebrows raised. “You called me Beej!”

“Yeah . . . ?”

“What the fuck else is she gonna call you, dipshit?” Beetlejuice snorted. “You want her to say all three syllables and banish you the fuck out of here without your clothes on?”

He waved him off and leaned forward towards you. “I told you I don’t get called often,” he told you quietly. “And it’s even more uncommon to get a nickname . . . I wasn’t expecting that. I liked it.”

You smiled automatically at him, then were hit with a little wave of sadness for him. 

“Let me make you feel good, Beej. Till the end this time, I promise!”

You sat up to get into a better position for him, ignoring that gravity was going to make all the wet from between your legs drip right onto the floor. You leaned forward, slipping your hand around his cock again, gave him a saucy grin, and licked him, right up the underside of his shaft. You opened your mouth to take him in again, and his long fingers dipped below your jaw to stop you.

You looked up at him in surprise. “Beej?”

“Your mouth is good, babydoll, but . . .” he paused for a second, and you didn’t know if it was because he was getting a hard stare from the Beetlejuice currently basking in the afterglow, or if you’d done something wrong. He gave you a fleeting smile that was more shy than you expected before he continued. “I love your tits. Any chance for a titty fuck instead of a blowjob?”

You almost laughed at how worried he’d sounded, like it was the most embarrassing thing he could have asked for. Beetlejuice did cackle, to which you flipped him off.

“Yes, of course!” you agreed immediately, and shuffled closer on your knees. 

It spread his legs wider, but the position wasn’t exactly right; you urged him to lay back a little more and you raised yourself up further over him so your tits surrounded his cock. You sat up to suck him one last time into your mouth, coating him thickly with spit, then smeared more in the valley between your boobs for extra lubrication. 

Carefully, you leaned over him again and nestled his cock against your breastbone, squeezing your tits around him. You looked up at him; his amber gaze was locked onto your chest. 

“Do you want to . . .?” you asked, nodding downward, asking without words if he’d like to do the honors.

For an answer, his hands came up and cupped your tits, keeping his cock trapped between them. Once he was settled and it felt secure enough to you, you lifted yourself up a little, letting his cock slide minutely.

Beetlejuice groaned. You smiled and did it again, just a little, just a tease. His response was a deeper noise, so you repeated it with a little more speed and intent. 

Watching his cock slip between your tits was fun, but it was even better to watch him. He only tore his eyes away from fucking your tits when you reached over his arms to gently tug on his nipple shields; the look he gave you matched the sharp surprise in his voice at the extra attention. His entire body trembled and he couldn’t seem to help bucking up a little harder between your tits; you gave a gaspy laugh. What he was doing didn’t stimulate you much, but you liked his obvious enjoyment. 

You kept gentle pressure on his nipples; since you hadn’t complained about him thrusting up into you he continued, fucking your tits at a speed and pressure he wanted. His eyelids fluttered and his moans became an undulating waver. 

Beetlejuice still pulled gasps from you. His hands had warmed on your tits and his cock slid easily between them. You looked down as he squeezed you more tightly and the pitch in his voice ratcheted upward. You managed to drop your chin enough to lick the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it.

At the additional wet touch, Beetlejuice stilled, and in the next moment, he bucked extra hard up against you, practically lifting your chest off him as he came. 

His come hit your chin and lips. You laughed again and your tongue lapped at it, filling your mouth with the earthy taste salt with an underlying note of moss and rot. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t tasted before, with the Beetlejuice you knew best.

When Beetlejuice finally released the tension in his muscles and slumped against the cushions again, you carefully peeled yourself off him. The come painted the tops of your tits, and you pushed yourself off the floor to grab a handful of tissues to clean yourself up. You wiped a little off your chin with your hand because it was going to drip before you made it to the box. 

Beetlejuice, once again lounging against the arm of the couch but watching you with sharp eyes, said, “Never thought seeing you dripping with someone else’s jizz would be a turn on for me, babe, but huh. Now we know.”

You considered flicking your come covered fingers at him, just to hear him squeal in protest, but didn’t. Pulling several tissues out of the box, you wiped yourself semi-dry and went back to the Beetlejuice still panting on the other end of the couch. You dropped a few tissues over his still leaking cock, shoved a few more between your legs, and sat down between them again. 

“You didn’t offer me anything to clean myself up with!” Beetlejuice pouted. 

You rolled your eyes. “You pulled your pants back on, Beej! Any residual come is smeared in your suit!”

He gave you a toothy grin that said he knew, and he didn’t care. You rolled your eyes again and he smirked, then offered you the same joint he’d had from the beginning. You shook your head, too sated and full of everything that had just happened to need anything else to alter your mood. You did, however, lean over onto him and kissed him.

Beetlejuice accepted it lazily, his hand scratching lightly down your side as you pressed against his chest.

By the time it was over and you turned back to the other Beetlejuice, he was already dressed.

“Oh,” you said quietly, but tried to mask your disappointment. You left Beej’s side and moved to Beetlejuice’s. 

“Sorry to see you covered those nice nipple rings up,” you told him. “Can I kiss you?”

Even after everything that had happened tonight, his temples shot through with a flustered pink. “Yeah, babydoll. I’d like that.”

You stretched upward to find his mouth, then melted a little into his side. It was a slow, deep kiss, your tongues lapping at each other, a teasing give and take. Your hands curled into fists in his shirt and his held your face and waist. When you finally ran out of breath, you stayed close to him, panting into his mouth. 

“That was sweet. Thank you.”

Beej made a snorting scoff behind you, and you ignored him. You ducked closer to Beetlejuice’s ear, and whispered directly to him, 

“Maybe I need to call you up again sometime, huh?”

He pulled back and you were met with wide-eyed, eager surprise and a quick nod. 

“Hey, I was here first, remember? Don’t go all sappy on him,” Beej demanded, and after a final quick peck on the lips of the other Beetlejuice, you threw yourself back at him, laying comfortably against him. 

“Yes you were, Beej,” you agreed, “but I’ll go sappy on whoever I want. And here’s some more: tonight was incredible. You’re both the ghost with the most, and I can’t believe I got two of you.”

You grabbed their hands and squeezed. They both looked at you and grinned, but their gazes became a little harder when they glanced at each other. 

“Now kiss!” you ordered.

The startled, panicked look on both their faces was worth the immediate protests and disgust that followed. You laughed at them both, and continued needling them because it got such a rise. 

_fin ( . . . ?)_


End file.
